


Twinning

by MayaMarkova



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Doriath, F/M, Fix-It, Gen, Nauglamír, Silmarils
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:54:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28351242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayaMarkova/pseuds/MayaMarkova
Summary: Nimloth argues with Dior to cede his most prized possessions to people who are unfriendly to Doriath. He is finally convinced by a very rare event which affects him soon after the argument.
Relationships: Dior Eluchíl/Nimloth of Doriath
Comments: 12
Kudos: 25





	1. A family quarrel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mangacrack](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangacrack/gifts).



‘Dior,’ Nimloth began, ‘I want to have a serious talk with you.’

Dior sat in front of his wife and looked at her swollen belly. Maybe she was worried about the imminent birth.

‘I am listening to you, dear. What’s the problem?’ he asked and smiled.

‘That necklace. The Nauglamir with the embedded Silmaril. I disliked it the moment I saw it, but didn’t want to raise the question, because you were distraught by the tidings of your parents’ deaths. But I am quite worried, and I cannot postpone it anymore.’

‘Don’t you like me with the necklace?’

‘Oh I do like you very much. To me, you are the fairest of all the children of the world. But I like you exactly as much when you are adorned with a simple wreath of leaves, or for that matter, when you are nude.’ Dior felt he was blushing, but Nimloth seemed not to mention, and continued: ‘The jewels add nothing to your beauty, your claim on them is tenuous at best, with powerful contestants, the Nauglamir has been cursed at least once and maybe twice, and the Silmaril has spent yeni on Morgoth’s crown and is the object of a terrible Oath. Please get rid of them! Give them back to those who have created them or, rather, to their heirs.’

‘You put your worst cause last and in the chief place,’ Dior said. ‘I don’t care that some kinslayers have sworn a blasphemous Oath to regain the Silmarils! So far, it has been empty words. For all their bragging, it was not any of them but my father and mother who brought the Silmaril beyond hope out of the terror of Morgoth. And evil deeds of the sons of Feanor have made void any right they had on the Silmarils.’

‘Indeed, what Celegorm and Curufin did to your parents was outrageous. However, given that your parents have never wanted justice or revenge, and have already died of totally unrelated causes, and that the other five sons of Feanor have not wronged your family in any way, I think it would be best to ask for an apology and maybe compensation from these two scoundrels, and to give the Silmaril to their eldest brother Maedhros.’

‘They have not wronged my family, but they have wronged my kin! Or have you forgotten the Kinslaying at Alqualonde? They have robbed and slain my people, and the Silmaril is the least possible weregild they owe for this!’

‘Oh really? When, then, and by what ship do you intend to send it to Alqualonde?’ Dior was stunned, because he had not expected this question. Nimloth continued: ‘See, all we know about Alqualonde is hearsay. The Noldor whom we have asked, such as Galadriel and her brothers, all claim that they have killed no Falmari, and in the next sentence complain that they have been betrayed and forced to cross the Grinding Ice because Feanor burned the ships. In other words, they were outraged by the killing of the ship owners but wanted a ride on the stolen ships, much like me when I was ten years old and berated the cruelty of hunters yet wanted meat in my dish. I don’t know why the Noldor were so desperately eager to depart, and I don’t know why the Falmari had ships but never came to check on us, though their king and ours were brothers. But given that the kinslayers are here and can help us, while the victims are beyond the Sea and not going to help us, and actually preferred to die than to allow any help to come our way, I am afraid we have to work with the kinslayers.’

‘You cannot speak like this! The kinslayers did not come to help us, and have never helped us.’

‘True, they did not come to help us, but they helped Cirdan anyway. Celegorm rescued his people during the Battle under the Stars. The Noldor are ready to make alliances with all sorts of people against Morgoth, the common enemy. And if they have done evil, so have we. Your grandfather banned their language, and refused to accept their refugees, causing many of them to die. Not to mention that he started it all with the Silmaril. I say, let’s leave the old grievances behind and make an alliance! The Feanorians have an army, and we are defenseless after the fall of the Girdle.’

‘We also have an army! And their army suffered a crushing defeat in the Nirnaeth and before this in Dagor Bragolach!’

‘Their army was defeated, but it still can fight. Meanwhile, our army relied on the Girdle and forgot how to fight. After the Battle under the Stars, only two of our people have fought in a real war, Beleg and Mablung; and both are dead now. The attack of the Dwarves exposed our army for what it’s worth. It’s a joke. Talking about the Dwarves, I think also that we should return them the Nauglamir and make peace with them.’

‘Really? To reward them for killing our king, my grandfather, and sacking our land?’

‘They – those who have survived, – think that your grandfather was to blame. It boils down to we say, they say. All you have to convince them is the words of Mirdil. I doubt that, after the many lives that were lost, the Dwarves will be eager to believe the testimony of a single jeweler who was locked in the next room to overhear the secrets of their craft. Besides, even Mirdil admits that your grandfather called the Dwarven craftsmen uncouth and stunted. In their eyes, such insults can be washed only with blood. And they, like the Noldor, give much importance to authorship. They feel entitled to the Nauglamir, because it was made by Dwarves.’

‘They no longer have any right over it. Its makers gave it to Finrod Felagund!’

‘And by what right do you consider yourself heir of Finrod? Because he died as a result of your grandfather’s shenanigans?’

Dior felt increasing anger and had to remind himself that his wife was pregnant, and pregnancy could do strange things to a woman.

‘Nimloth, I am patient with you because of your delicate condition, but everything has a limit! Stop talking against my grandfather, now!’

‘Dior, I understand that Elu Thingol was your beloved grandfather, but I need to speak against him, because he was also the King of Doriath, and made a mess of everything, and you are in denial. If you and I and our baby are in danger now, it is because of him! He felt safe behind the Girdle, decided that he could do whatever he wanted, and kept making mistakes. He alienated the Northern Sindar because he considered them tainted by Morgoth, with zero evidence. He treated the Noldor as enemies because he didn’t like them, even before he heard of the Kinslaying. He didn’t like the Men, either, and sent your father on a suicide quest. And he angered the Dwarves, forgetting that he was alone with them inside the Girdle. Now, we are standing in the middle of an unprotected forest, sacked, with nary a friend or ally, no army to speak of, and a handful of useless gems. You like to say that you will raise anew the glory of the kingdom of Doriath; please take care of its very existence first! For I don’t think that Doriath can survive another sack.’

‘Who do you think will attack us?’

‘The way I see it, everyone will be happy to do it. They can take numbers and stand in line.’

‘Well, I could think about the Nauglamir. But I am not giving the Silmaril, which my father has won and my mother has worn. Not to that brood of mad kinslayers who call all of their sons Finwe. Do you know that the Orcs have litters? And do you know that the two youngest sons of Feanor are twins? They were apparently born after he fell under the shadow of Morgoth. No talks and no alliance with them!’

‘Where have you heard this nonsense?’ Nimloth snapped. ‘Whatever faults Feanor had, he died fighting Morgoth. His wife, by all accounts, was wise and honored the Valar, and remained behind to rebuild her darkened country. How dare you slander a mother because she gave birth to twins? Well, if we’ll argue at this level, I give up. You think it suits the King of Doriath to adorn himself with other peoples’ creations that have not even been gifted to him… well, keep this cursed necklace then! But please take it off when you come to me! Your parents died two years after receiving the Silmaril, didn’t they? Maybe just a coincidence, but maybe it hastened their end, so keep it away from our baby!’


	2. The decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The birth of the first child often changes the parents' worldview. And if it is a twin birth, the change can be double!

Dior was sitting alone in his throne room, feeling more and more anxious. Nimloth was giving birth, with only Nellas to help, because the best healers had been killed in the Sack. It was definitely taking too long. Had it gone awry? Dior was already thinking to go and check on Nimloth despite her insistence to stay away, when Nellas came running. She looked exhausted but happy and proud.

‘Everything is all right, my king! They are all well, and you can come to see them!’

Dior jumped to his feet. It was strange to call a mother and a baby “all”. Nellas was living alone in the woods, and had apparently become a little wild and forgotten proper speech. But it didn’t matter. She had come not to compose speeches but to help with his child’s birth, and had done her job.

‘Here they are!’ she announced as she brought him in. ‘Twin boys! That’s why her belly was so large. It was difficult, but ended well.’

Nimloth was lying in the bed, pale like the sheets, and clutching a tiny red crying baby to each side. She looked at her husband, and her eyes were full of unmistakable fear. Ashamed, Dior remembered what he had recently said about twins. Where had been his mind, to listen to evil gossip? It was nonsense, and those who were spreading it were likely wrong also about many other things! He sat on the bed and caressed his wife’s hair.

‘Are you well, dear?’ She nodded. ‘Then I am the happiest husband and father in Arda!’ He remembered that he had forgotten to take off his necklace, and pushed it to his back so that the Silmaril would not shine into Nimloth’s eyes. Meanwhile, Nellas took one of the babies and started to wrap him in linen.

‘They are so tiny and so perfect!’ he exclaimed. ‘Which one was born first?’ Nellas pointed to the baby in her hands. ‘I’d name him Elured. And his brother is a little copy of my grandfather, so he can be Elurin. Unless you object, Nimloth…’

But his wife smiled happily.

‘He was their great-grandfather, and he would have loved them. I find it nice if the father-name reminds of an ancestor, it keeps the family tradition!’

After a little time, Dior let Nimloth rest and went to Mirdil. With some secret regret, he took off his necklace and placed it in front of his best jeweler.

‘Mirdil, can you remove the Silmaril from the Nauglamir?’

‘Are you sure you want it, Sire? They are beautiful as they are joined together.’

‘Maybe, but they will be sent to different directions, to spare Doriath more misfortunes.’

Mirdil looked at him with surprise, then examined the necklace carefully.

‘Yes, I can do it. It will take about ten days, and tiny traces may remain on the Nauglamir. It will be a pity, for it suits you very well…’

‘I don’t think it suits the King of Doriath to adorn himself with foreign creations, no matter how beautiful. Once you finish this job, I’ll ask you to make something more Doriath-like. Can you make, for example, a wreath of thin leaves of gold? I hope that we still have enough gold after the Sack.’

The excited jeweler assured him that yes, he could, and yes, he still had enough gold for the task. Dior left him to his work and went to his library. He tried to concentrate himself, because he had two important letters to write, and the recipients were not exactly friends of Doriath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wreaths of golden leaves were popular among rulers of various cultures in Bronze and Iron Age Mediterranean.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by a discussion to Mangacrack's [Don't wanna fight this War](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15465879/chapters/69081435), more precisely by a comment that female Orcs most likely give birth to litters as a result of the damage done by Morgoth.  
> I find it curious that Thingol's murder is described in the Silmarillion in such detail, provided that there were no witnesses. So I found it appropriate to insert a jeweler next door to the crime scene. I imagine Mirdil disabled, like Sador Labadal, though this is not mentioned in the text.  
> I find canon Dior unwise (to put it mildly).  
> In canon, Dior's children are born before he comes to Doriath, but my plot here required a little anachronism.


End file.
